


Intervention

by iTony



Series: Tony Snark [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Gen, Humor, Nick Fury is Not Amused, Snarky Tony, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony-centric, olive garden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:10:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6286027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iTony/pseuds/iTony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the events of "Reindeer Games" and "Sliding Scale," the Avengers decide it’s time to have an intervention for Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intervention

When Nick Fury stormed into the Avengers’ break room, he was surprised to see everyone sitting there waiting for him attentively, each holding a folder.  Natasha was perched on the edge of a table; Clint was leaning against the counter sipping a cup of coffee.  Thor and Steve had turned the worn-out burgundy sofa so it faced the door, and Bruce was leaning forward in an armchair that had also been turned.  Beside Thor, Loki was pouting on the armrest of the couch.  Pepper Potts, Tony’s assistant, and Happy Hogan, his bodyguard, had taken a pair of chairs and scooted them closer to the door as well; Happy sat on his backwards with apparent relaxation, in contrast to Pepper, who was perched on the edge of hers with clear apprehension.

“Since when were you all ready to work?” he demanded, forgetting briefly why he was there.  “And why the hell is Loki here?”

“He’s my brother,” said Thor.

“We’re bifrost-pooling today,” added Loki.  “I’ve got an appointment in Vanaheim.”

“And this isn’t 'work.'  We’re having an intervention for Tony,” said Steve, who looked annoyed that Nick Fury wasn’t Tony.  Several of them had set down their folders with equal annoyance.  

“Oh.  Well, that’s probably a good thing.”  Fury cast his gaze around the room.  “Does anyone know who’s parked in my spot?  I had to park on the street today because someone’s in my spot.”

“No,” they all intoned at once.

“Took the bus,” added Clint.

“Taxi,” said Natasha.

“Mjölnir,” said Thor.

“Well, I need to know, because the meter’s only good for fifteen minutes and I have better things to do that find out who owns a cherry-red Lamborghini with the vanity plate ‘YOLO 69.’”

“Did someone say… _cherry-red Lamborghini_?” asked Tony, slamming open the break room door.  He grinned at all of them.  Caught off-guard, no one had been holding their folders or looking especially grave.  Clint sputtered slightly into his coffee.

“I should’ve known,” growled Fury.

“Tony, take a seat,” said Steve seriously, recovering quickly from the surprise.

“Why?  I don’t need one,” said Tony, looking confused.  He pushed his sunglasses onto his head and looked questioningly at Fury.

“Sit down, Tony.  Director Fury, you too,” said Steve firmly.

“Did you not hear me say that I’ve only got fifteen minutes on the meter?” asked Fury, looking exasperated.

“ _Sit_ ,” demanded Steve.  With equally chastised expressions, Fury and Tony dropped into the seats nearest to them.  “Tony,” said Steve.  “This is an intervention.”

“For _who_?” asked Tony eagerly, looking excited at the prospect.

“For _whom,_ and for you, Tony,” said Pepper.  “Your drinking has gotten out of control and your quips aren’t nearly as funny as usual.  We’re worried about you.”

“Oh.”  Tony adjusted his cufflinks coolly.  “You know, my quips aren’t that bad.”

“They are, Tony, and they’re tearing this team apart,” said Steve.  “We’ve all written you a letter explaining how your drinking is negatively affecting us.  Will you please listen?”

“I dunno, how long will this take?  He’s only got fifteen minutes on the meter,” said Tony, jerking a thumb in Fury’s direction.

Steve ignored him.  “Bruce, would you like to go first, please?”

Bruce cleared his throat.  “Dear Tony.  When we first met, you were funny.  I admired that very much in you.  Now, since you’ve begun drinking more and more, your puns are forced and lazy.  I understand what it’s like to lose control but this behavior is unacceptable.  You have reused several jokes recently and we have tried to be supportive, but we can no longer turn a blind eye.  Please accept the help we are offering you today as a gift from us, your friends.”

Tony stared at him, dumbfounded.  “Wait.  I’m confused.  You’re having an intervention because my drinking makes me _less funny_?”

“Natasha,” said Steve.

“Dear Tony,” said Natasha.  “Because there are no other comic reliefs currently employed by S.H.I.E.L.D., you are an integral part of what I consider a very functional team of the highest class special agents.  Lately your humor has been pretty awful because of your drinking, and it embarrasses us and makes our arch-enemies think less of us.  We all want the old Tony back.  Please be funny again.  Your team mate, Natasha.”

“No, seriously, stop,” protested Tony.  “You’re saying you don’t care if I drink, but that I’m not being _funny_ enough?”

“Clint,” said Steve loudly, over Tony.  Clint looked up sharply; he was making a new cup of coffee.  He stretched across the counter for his letter but couldn’t quite reach it without leaving the Keurig.  Steve waited patiently as he pulled an arrow from his quiver and tried to drag over the paper.  The arrow barely reached it, and he accidentally knocked it to the floor.  The paper drifted down and slid under the fridge.

“Happy,” said Steve, as Clint shrugged and leaned back, sipping his drink.

“Just so you know I was not clear on why we were doing this,” said Happy.  He held up his letter.  “Dear boss.  Your gambling addiction—”

“Okay never mind.  Thanks Happy,” said Steve.  “Thor.”

“What?” asked Thor obliviously.

“I’ll go!” Said Loki eagerly.

“Wait, why did _you_ write a letter?” asked Fury.

Loki looked hurt.  “Because Thor said I’d be here and I thought it would be dreadfully uncaring of me not to participate.”  He cast a pointed glance in Fury’s direction.

“I didn’t know—” began Fury.

“ _Thor!_ ” barked Steve.

“Dear Anthony Stark, son of Howard Stark, man of iron,” began Thor, unrolling a massive piece of parchment.  “Salutations and blessings of the elder gods from I, your ally, Thor Odinson, god of Thunder, ruler of Asgard—”

"Okay, stop,” protested Tony.  “Time-out.  Everyone just… stop.”

“But—” began Thor.

“Can it, Thorrest Gump, we don’t have time for your novel.  Look.  Guys.”  Tony leaned back, making sure he had commanded everyone’s attention before continuing.  “It’s cute that you all came to my intervention and I think it’s great that Stars n’ Stripes here organized it, but my bad jokes are not the biggest problem this team is facing.”  He adjusted his cufflinks again, looking bored on purpose, to build the tension.  “I think we all know there’s someone on this team who needs an intervention a lot more than I do.  Someone here with a _real_ problem.”

“Natasha,” said Fury.

“Bruce,” said Natasha.

“Steve,” said Bruce.

“Pepper,” said Steve.

“Fury,” said Pepper.

Everyone looked surprised.

“ _Me_?  What the hell?” demanded Natasha.  

“You use the Avengers credit card for personal business!” accused Fury.

"No I don't!"

“Oh really. _Olive Garden_ was official company business?”

“It was an operative!  I was under cover!”

“You spent three hundred dollars on unlimited breadsticks!  You only needed to get one order, Natasha!  They’re _unlimited_ breadsticks!”

“I don’t that’s nearly as bad as Bruce’s burning incense in the break room,” rebuffed Natasha.

“What? _Seriously_?  You think we need an intervention for my incense?" cried Bruce.  "It’s calming!”

“It’s a _shared_ breakroom and I wouldn’t have to go to Olive Garden if I could eat here, but I can’t because it smells like a Macy’s perfume department!”

“Well, I wouldn’t need to burn incense if Steve wasn’t constantly causing drama and making everything political in here!”

“Oh, sorry for _caring_ , sorry for being a good team leader!” huffed Steve.

“Team leader?” interrupted Thor.  “I thought I was the team leader.  I’m a god, a king, and the most powerful member, am I not?”

“You’re kidding me.  Steve’s obviously the team leader," said Loki.

“I thought I was the team leader,” said Fury.

"Well, you're not really on the team, per se," said Natasha.

“I’m the team leader!" protested Thor.

"No, _Steve_ is,” said Natasha.  Thor looked over at Clint, who shrugged and nodded as he refilled the coffee machine.

“And as team leader," continued Bruce, "he takes it _way_ too seriously and brings work into the _break room_ and talks about all of our current enemies and threats and it makes it really hard to relax in here!  He’s the one who spent the last two weeks organizing this intervention while we were all trying to take our coffee breaks.”

“True,” agreed Clint, who never missed a coffee break.

“Well _someone_ had to,” said Steve, eyes narrowing.  “No one else seems to care that Tony’s sense of humor has been rapidly deteriorating.  Sometimes, I think _certain people_ are a little too accommodating toward him and that we have _certain enablers_ who made this necessary in the first place.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” said Pepper, wheeling around to face Steve.  “Are you accusing me of allowing this kind of behavior?  I’ve never encouraged Tony’s puns, I’ve always been the most responsible—”

“It’s true, she’s got a real stick up her ass!” called Tony over the arguing.  He was clearly enjoying himself.

“—most organized and constantly mopping up his messes and doing damage control and most of you can’t even keep your own nonsense together,” continued Pepper, “for example Director Fury who, I hate to say this but it’s true, obviously needs an intervention because of his problem with parking tickets.”

“ _What_?”

“Which he pays with the company card!” added Natasha.

“Question!" said Bruce, raising a finger timidly.  "Charging incense on the company card.  Is it okay if it’s for the shared break room?”

“No one likes your incense, Bruce!” yelled Natasha.

"Damn it, I _need_ it!"

Everyone jumped at a suddenly slamming noise.  They all looked over.  Loki had stood, grabbed Thor’s helmet, and smashed it against the wall to get their attention.  He let the helmet drop to the ground and then slowly began clapping.  “Bravo, Mr. Stark.  Bravo.  Rarely have I seen anyone so effectively sow seeds of chaos such as yourself.”

“Aw, shucks,” said Tony.

“However, this petty arguing, charming though it may be, is giving me a headache and wasting my time.  I suggest we remain focused on what we all know to be the real problem here.”

For a brief moment, the break room was silent.

“Which is not my puns,” said Tony, breaking the spell.

“Well, Tony, if our big problem isn’t your terrible sense of humor, I’d love to know what it is,” said Pepper, crossing her arms.

“Please enlighten us.  Who should we be having the intervention for?” asked Fury.

Tony looked shocked.  “Are you kidding me?  None of you have noticed?”

"Noticed what?”

“Clint,” said Tony.

Everyone turned.  Clint’s eyes widened slightly.  He was leaning by the Keurig, coffee mug in hand.

“Oh my God,” said Steve.

“Oh my God,” echoed Natasha.

“Guys.”  Clint held up a hand.  “Guys.  Don’t.”

“Put down the coffee, Clint,” said Steve softly.

“No!”  Clint eased slightly closer to the Keurig.  “No!  I’m fine!  You _guys_.  This is my last cup for today.”

“Clint, how many K-Cups have you gone through today?”

“Just… just a couple!”  Clint’s eyes darted around the room.  “I can stop whenever I want!”

“Clint, you’re literally shaking.  Put down the coffee.”

Clint threw back the coffee mug and began chugging it.  Steve jumped up and ran over to wrestle the mug out of his hand, but it was too late; the coffee was gone.  The mug clattered to the floor and Steve and Clint sank to the floor in a heap.

“Oh, God,” moaned Clint.  “Guys I… I have a problem.  I haven’t slept in days.  It’s so… it’s so good… I’m so jittery but I can’t stop...”

“We’re going to help you, Clint,” said Natasha, rising and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Damn you, Fury!” roared Thor.  He pointed his hammer at Director Fury.  “I warned you that the power of the Keurig was too powerful for mortal man!”

“You know what?  I don’t have time for this.  I need to go feed the meter,” said Fury, rising.  He side-stepped Tony, who was drinking from a flask he’d pulled out of his pocket and watching the drama with Clint unfold with clear enjoyment, and walked out of the break room toward the elevators.  By the time he’d gotten to the street, it was too late.  The bright orange ticket flapped merrily under his windshield wiper, and he swore ferociously, tearing it off.  He made a mental note to put it with the others and pay them all off with the company credit card that evening.

 

\- End -


End file.
